


Brother Dearest

by Anonymous



Category: Captive Prince - C. S. Pacat
Genre: Anal Sex, Begging, Blow Jobs, Collected One Shots, Dom/sub, Incest, Light Bondage, M/M, Oral Sex, Rimming, Underage - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-27
Updated: 2019-03-02
Packaged: 2019-09-28 19:00:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,029
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17188565
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: A collection of Lauguste one-shots, with occasional L/D/AEnjoy everyone!





	1. Dom!Laurent

Laurent stepped into the royal council chambers and held the door open. “Out,” he said. His brother and the four advisors crowded around him looked up. Auguste had dark circles under his eyes. The lamps were burning low. It was late. Laurent tilted his head at the hallway. “Get. Out.” 

The councilors looked at the King. “But the border dispute…” one of them protested. 

“I have intelligence that will remedy that in the morning,” Laurent said. “Don’t make me repeat myself.” 

When Auguste said nothing, the advisors reluctantly gathered their papers and maps and filed out. Laurent let the door shut heavily behind them. 

Auguste slumped down in his high-backed chair, letting his impeccable posture go. “Do you really have something that will help us with Vask?” he asked. His voice had the slight hoarseness of someone who hasn’t slept in far too long. 

“I might,” Laurent said striding across the room. “More help than those imbeciles will give you anyway.” 

Auguste sighed. “You aren’t currying any favors with the noble families you know, ordering them around like servants.” 

“It makes you all the more exemplary by virtue of not being me.” Laurent sat on the table beside his brother, knee bumping Auguste’s shoulder. “Enough talk of court. I have something more pressing.”

Auguste’s gaze darkened. “What is that?” 

Silently, Laurent let his legs fall open and watched his brother’s eyes come to rest on his crotch. He was hard from touching himself in his own rooms, bringing himself close to the edge and then lacing his cock into his tight breeches, an exercise in pain and restraint. 

“And what do you expect me to do about that?” Auguste asked, voice rough. 

“Don’t play games with me,” Laurent said, leaning back on his elbows, legs spread. 

“You’re the one playing games. Do you think you can order the King to suck your cock like a common pet?” 

Laurent leveled his iciest gaze at his brother. “Yes.” They stared at one another. “Suck my cock,” Laurent said clearly, “Or I’ll walk out that door and get myself off.” 

Auguste gripped his hips in both hands and yanked him forward so he was sitting at the edge of the table. Laurent breathed out hard, cock twitching as he felt the pressure of his brother’s hands pulling at the laces on his trousers. He tipped his head back and groaned as Auguste closed his lips around his cock. 

Sighing, Laurent thrust up into his brother’s mouth as he carded a hand through Auguste’s fine, silken hair. “Hungry slut,” he murmured affectionately. “Couldn’t bear the thought of not getting his mouth on my cock.” 

Auguste growled in his throat, and Laurent gasped, rocking into the wet heat, feeling the drag of Auguste’s tongue on the underside of his cock. Lamplight made Auguste’s head shine between his legs. Laurent was starting to tremble. He’d been very close before he’d come to find his brother, and Auguste was sucking him hard and mercilessly. “That’s good. Fuck. Do you want me to come for you? Show me how much you want it.” 

Glancing up, eyes glittering, Auguste took a deep breath through his nose and sank down a few inches further, till the head of Laurent’s cock was teasing the fluttering clench of his throat. He swallowed deliberately and Laurent shouted as he came, curling up with one hand fisted in his brother’s hair. 

Auguste swallowed again, wringing another intense shudder from Laurent, who collapsed back on the table. He panted up at the ceiling, papers crumpling under his back. With a wet pop that made Laurent shiver, Auguste let his softening cock slip out of his mouth. Auguste's cheeks were red, eyes glistening with tears, and he was smiling. He rested his chin on Laurent’s knee. Absently, Laurent cupped a hand around the back of his neck. His limbs were heavy and pleasantly unsteady. “What do you say?” he asked, swallowing a yawn. 

Auguste pressed his cheek against Laurent’s thigh in a quick, affectionate motion. “Thank you brother.” 


	2. A Peach by Any Other Name

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A CMBYN pastiche, of course

Laurent lay dozing in the dappled shade under an apricot tree, cradling a peach against his chest. It was a hot, sleepy afternoon, smelling of warm grass and over-ripe fruit. Auguste was asleep beside him with his jacket off and his shirt unlaced down the front, white linen gaping open to show one pink nipple, his chest rising and falling with his steady breaths. They had gone riding that morning and the horses were tied nearby in the orchard, cropping the grass under the trees. 

Absently he ran his fingers over the soft, velvety surface of the peach, letting the tip of his fingers circle around the indent of the stem and dip inside. The motion was teasing, suggestive. Laurent felt something warm and illicit thrill through his belly. 

Biting his lip, he pressed his fingers harder until the skin of the peach broke. It was perfectly ripe, soft and juicy. The juice dripped over his wrist as he dug his fingers into it. The flesh was warm from the sun, almost body temperature. Laurent’s breath was coming short and fast. The thought once it had occurred, was indelible. He was already hard, with an intense mixture of nervous curiosity and incredulous arousal. 

Heart pounding, he slid a hand down his torso and began tugging on the laces of his trousers. The peach was sticky and soft in his other hand. 

 

Auguste gradually became aware of a rustling and heavy breathing beside him. He cracked an eye open, body feeling warm and heavy with sleep. It took him a moment to process what he was looking at, but when he did a jolt of heat shocked him fully awake. It took all of his military training not to react. 

His brother was sprawled beside him on his back, one hand between his legs. His arm was moving in a familiar rhythm. There was a slight wet sound, in time with the motion of his hand. Auguste's first thought was  _ did he bring oil to go riding with me?  _ That thought had an edge of dangerous, impossible heat. But no, not oil. Auguste swallowed a laugh, forcing himself to stay still and silent. Laurent had the messy, cored remains of a peach in his hand and was thrusting his cock into it with a frantic urgency that Auguste remembered from being his age. He was trying hard to be silent but clearly forgetting himself as pleasure took him, biting back tiny whimpers and groans, rocking his hips up against his hand. 

With sudden, intense clarity Auguste imagined bending over Laurent, pushing his hand aside, and licking the sweet, sticky mess off his cock, sucking him until he came down his throat. Auguste’s cock throbbed, suddenly painfully hard in the constriction of his tight riding leathers. If Laurent hadn’t been so distracted, it would be easy to see with him lying on his back. Auguste thought of his younger brother seeing him hard, reaching for his cock. Another wave of heat shuddered through him and he fought the urge to roll his hips against nothing. 

Laurent had his eyes squeezed shut and was whining steadily now, a barely audible, breathy sound in his throat. Auguste forced himself to breathe shallowly. 

Laurent gasped, back arching off the ground and then collapsed, sighing heavily. Auguste’s cock ached, the tip wet where he had been leaking into his trousers. Laurent’s eyes were closed. His hand holding the peach slid to one side, the gored, messy fruit rolling out of his limp grasp. Auguste’s mouth watered. 

He yawned elaborately, feigning wakefulness. 

Laurent squeaked and jerked upright, scrambling to pull the laces of his trousers together.  Auguste pretended not to notice, rolling on his stomach and taking the opportunity to press his cock against the ground as he blinked his eyes open. 

Laurent was him staring at him, wide eyed, hands covering his crotch.  

“What?” Auguste asked. 

“Nothing,” Laurent said, too fast. 

“What did you do?” Auguste let his gaze trail down his brother’s body. Peach juice and come left dark stains on the fine pale leather of his riding pants. Laurent was pink and guilty looking. His hands were still gleaming stickily. 

Auguste propped himself up on his elbows and glanced down at the peach. The soft, crushed juiciness of the fruit almost disguised the pearly liquid pooled in the center, but not quite. He picked it up, in one hand and Laurent made an abrupt, aborted movement to stop him. “Did you leave this for me?” 

“N-no,” Laurent stuttered, cheeks blazing red. 

"Oh, you were saving it for yourself?" Auguste offered it to him. 

"No!"

"If you don't want it, I'll eat it. Can't let a perfectly good peach go to waste".

“I want it,” Laurent blurted, and snatched it out of his hand, then looked down at it as if he had never seen a peach before. His face was burning, his hands trembling slightly. He bit his lip absently. 

Auguste felt his cock jerk and throb watching his younger brother stare down at the fruit. The thought of Laurent obeying him made his whole body burn. “Go on then.” 

 

Laurent was about to crawl out of his skin. His cheeks were so hot he felt sunburnt, lightheaded and dizzy like heatstroke. Auguste was watching him with an intensity that made heat pool low in his stomach. His heart was pounding, and for some reason his body had gotten confused and his spent cock was twitching softly, interested. 

“Well?” Auguste asked. His voice was a little hoarse - probably because he’d just been sleeping. Laurent loved his voice, wanted to hear him sound like that more, whispering in his ear. He had come harder than he had in ages from the sordid, furtive wrongness of this, fucking up into something soft and wet in broad daylight, listening to his brother breathing, asleep beside him. “I’m waiting,” Auguste said, low and heavy. 

Laurent shivered, and bit into the peach. The texture was a little strange - slimy and thick, but the sweetness exploded on his tongue, strong enough that it almost masked the bitter tang underneath. Juice dripped down his chin and he swiped his tongue over his lips. 

Auguste’s gaze was fixed on his mouth, eyes dark. Laurent’s cock was trying to get hard again, painfully sensitive. He took another bite of the peach and licked his lips deliberately, watching Auguste’s chest rise and fall as he took a deep breath. 

He finished the peach, and tossed the pit away into the orchard. There was a short silence, full of the rustling of leaves and buzzing of crickets. 

“Was it good?” Auguste asked roughly. 

Cheeks burning, heart beating fast, Laurent nodded. It was good. 

 


	3. D/L/A bondage

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by the wonderful art of [ Linecrosser! ](https://alinecrosser.wordpress.com/)  
> xoxoxoxo

Laurent pushed the door open and heard the low groaning and the slap of skin. Orlant, standing at his post in the hallway, raised his eyebrows, hearing it too. Laurent smiled and shut the door firmly, taking his time unlacing his jacket as he wandered into the bedchamber.

“Started without me?” He leaned against the carved frame of the bed, tugging his jacket off, starting with the laces of his shirt.

The Akielon slave’s eyes slid open. His gaze was glazed, mouth open and wet. Over his shoulder, Auguste grinned and thrust, rocking Damianos forward. His arms were bound over his head, attached by the gold cuffs on his wrists to the head of the bed. Sweat stood out on his dark skin, and his cock bounced untouched on his stomach, leaving sticky smears of liquid as Auguste fucked him steadily.

“Don’t worry,” Auguste said, sounding a little short of breath. “I wouldn’t let him come without you.”

Laurent dropped his shirt on the ground and reached for the laces of his trousers, squeezing himself through the fabric quickly. Damainos groaned, hands clenching helplessly in his bonds, hips hitching back toward Auguste. Auguste slapped Damianos’ thigh. “Be good. Now Laurent’s here you might get what you want.” Damianos shuddered and Laurent felt his own cock throb in anticipation. Naked, he knelt on the edge of the bed and trailed his fingers down the Akielon’s chest, rubbing his thumb over one tight nipple.

Damianos licked his lips, staring at Laurent through slitted eyes. “Please,” he whispered hoarsely.

Auguste smacked him again. “My brother will use you however he likes, whenever he is ready.” Damianos groaned, eyes squeezing shut again, cock twitching and drooling as Auguste rocked deep in him.

Picking up the oil from the bedside table, Laurent slicked his fingers and reached behind himself, slipping two fingers in easily. “Didn’t you get enough this morning?” Auguste teased. “You’re just as bad as the slave, always desperate.”

Laurent stroked his cock with the other hand, arching his body, watching his brother watch him. There was a dark, urgent look in his eyes that made Laurent feel hot all over. Auguste could say whatever he liked – he was just as desperate for it, and they both knew it. Laurent winked, and then made a show of finding the right spot inside himself, groaning and shuddering, fucking between his fingers and his own hand until it wasn’t enough.

The Akielon’s cock was beautiful – velvety and flushed scarlet at the head. 

Rolling on his side, Laurent slid back until his hips were pressed against Damianos’, reaching between his legs to guide his cock. His brother courteously held still while he lined the Akielon’s cock up with his slick hole and pressed it inside.

Damianos gasped. When Laurent looked over his shoulder, the slave was panting, open-mouthed, eyes tightly shut. Wriggling his hips to settle himself, he reached back to cup Damianos’ face, watching his eyes flutter open, so Laurent could see how dark they were; clear brown irises swallowed up by pupil – desperate. He slid his thumb against Damianos’ bottom lip, and the slave closed his lips around it, sucking, eyes falling shut again. His hips twitched, dragging his cock inside Laurent.

Auguste reached an arm around him, pulling his brother back against the Akielon’s chest so that Laurent’s finger slid out of Damianos’ mouth. It changed the angle of his cock inside him, and when Auguste thrust next, it rocked Damianos forward into Laurent in a way that made Laurent’s breath leave him in a rush.

Panting, Laurent grabbed his brother’s hand, twining their fingers together, as Auguste fucked both of them until Laurent was trembling. With one hand braced on the bed and the other clutching at Auguste, he couldn’t touch himself, but if Auguste didn’t stop, he could come like this, with the Akielon’s thick cock inside him, the sound of his brother panting in his ear. His cock was aching, leaking onto the sheets.

“Laurent,” Auguste groaned, voice breaking, squeezing Laurent’s hand tightly as he went still. Laurent swore in frustration, cock throbbing. He could feel the tiny shudders running through his brother’s body as he came inside Damianos. The change in rhythm had both Laurent and Damianos trembling on the edge. Damianos was gasping against Laurent’s neck, hot and damp with sweat and tears, his cock huge and hard inside Laurent. Swallowing a whine, Laurent squirmed back against him, but Damianos was too far gone to fuck him properly, and didn’t have any leverage with his arms bound.

“Auguste,” Laurent panted. “Please, brother.”

He heard Auguste sigh contentedly, and then felt Damianos’ body rock against his again, shifting his cock inside Laurent. Auguste kept his hips snug against Damianos back and guided them both into a hard, fast, rhythm, reaching around Laurent to stroke his cock, and Laurent cried out, fists tight in the sheets as he clenched down on Damianos’ cock and began to come in his brother’s hand. Behind him, Damianos made a choked noise, hips jolting, and Laurent felt the slick pulse of the Akielon slave emptying himself inside him.

 


	4. Threesome with Rimming

Laurent squirmed. “Come on. I’m ready.”

Damen hummed. He was kneeling on the bed, behind Laurent, four fingers deep in his ass. Laurent’s hole stretched around Damen’s thick knuckles, gleaming with oil. “I don’t think so.”

“Goddammit.” Laurent was panting, red faced, hair in disarray. “I’m ready, just put your cock in me. I can take it.”

“Can you? What do you think, Auguste?” Damen pressed a kiss absently against the small of Laurent’s back, tongue flicking out to taste his sweat. “Think he’s ready?”

Auguste, sitting against the headboard with a book in his lap, glanced up. "Hm. I don't think so."

“Fuck, Damen, just do it.” Laurent arched his back, rocking his hips against Damen’s fingers. “You’re not as big as you think you are.”

“Laurent! Didn’t I teach you better manners than that?” Auguste turned a page, shifting slightly. His erection pressed up under the soft fabric of his night clothes. “How do you ask nicely, little brother?”

Laurent called him name that turned into a moan as Damen twisted his fingers. “Fuck.” Throwing back his head, Laurent groaned, “ _Please_ fuck me, Damen. I’m ready for your cock. I want it so bad, just fucking put it in me already.”

“I don’t think so.” Damen curled his fingers. Luarent jolted, fingers curling in the messy sheets, and swore colorfully at him.

“Language, Laurent,” his brother scolded, without looking up.

“Hey Auguste,” Damen said. “Do me a favor and put something in his mouth.”

He gestured to his book. “I need to finish this for the meet tomorrow.”

Damen just looked at him, and then bent down and bit Laurent’s ass without breaking eye contact. Laurent yelped and mumbled something into the sheets that sounded like _fucking animal_.

Auguste rolled his eyes. “You two are impossible. Fine, bring him here.”

Grinning, Damen slid one arm under Laurent’s narrow hips, with four fingers still deep in his ass, and lifted him up enough to shuffle him up the bed and dump him face first in his brother’s lap. Auguste groaned a little, threading his fingers through Laurent’s hair as his younger brother huffed out a surprised breath, warm and damp against his cock.

Damen sprawled out on the bed behind him, rolling his hips to press his own aching erection against the mattress. Auguste glanced up to see his ass flexing, shallow dimples denting the smooth brown flesh, and was so distracted that he gasped when Laurent pulled out his cock.

Laurent, annoyed, was less than gentle, closing one hand around his brother’s balls and tugging, letting his nails dig into the sensitive base of his cock. Auguste hissed and tightened his hand in Laurent’s hair, looking down sharply. “Careful,” he grunted. “Be good.”

Tossing his disheveled hair out of his eyes, Laurent glanced up with a look that managed to convey composed, courtly distain, despite the fact that his brother’s cock was pressed against his flushed cheek. The sight made Auguste groan and his cock jerked, leaking. Clear fluid smeared on Laurent’s lips as he opened his mouth and licked messily at the head of his erection. “You look so good like this,” he sighed.

Damen ran his free hand over Laurent’s back, and spread his ass cheeks. “You should see him from this side.” Bending down, he licked the swollen, pink rim of Laurent’s hole where it was stretched around his fingers.

Laurent’s whole body shook and he made a choking noise around his brother’s cock. Auguste moaned. Breathing hard, he cupped both hands around Laurent’s face as he sucked him, stroking his hair and his hollowed cheeks.

Damen had a firm grip on Laurent’s hips, holding his ass off the bed so he couldn’t press against it. Laurent squirmed, humping the air, thrusting his ass back against Damen’s face. His hard cock bounced under him, bright red and dripping pre-come onto the sheets. He was making muffled whimpering noises around Auguste’s cock.

Lifting his head with a wet sound, Damen said, “Think he can come like this?” His voice was hoarse.

Mouth full, Laurent shook his head and mumbled, “Mmm-mmm.”

“Yes he can,” Auguste sighed, petting his head. “I know you can, sweetheart. Come for us without a hand on you? Fuck.” He rolled his head back against the pillows, fingers tightening in Laurent's hair, making his brother moan. Tears were leaking from the corners of his eyes. Auguste wiped them away with his thumbs. “You can do it. You’re so perfect, so good for us.” Laurent shivered, cock drooling under him. Spit was running down his chin, the gold curls in Auguste’s groin damp with it.

Auguste whispered, "Come for us, little brother,” just as Damen leaned forward and pushed his tongue inside Laurent’s hole, curling his fingers hard against his prostate.

Laurent wailed, his brother’s cock slipping out of his mouth and slapping wetly against his cheek. He clenched down around Damen’s fingers and tongue as he came untouched, cock jerking, spilling come all over the bed.

Groaning, Auguste looked down at his brother’s red face, and squeezed his slick cock as he came, painting Laurent’s flushed cheeks and swollen mouth.

Swearing, Damen rolled Laurent over, who went bonelessly, panting, and crawled on top of him, bending his knees up against his chest. He easily slid inside Laurent’s wet, open hole and Laurent groaned helplessly, hooking an arm around Damen’s neck to pull him closer. He was still mostly hard, cock pressed between them.

“Fuck, look at you,” Damen panted. “Covered in your brother’s come. You’re so hot like like this, I love it.”

Laurent cleared his throat, working his jaw a little, and then managed in a hoarse voice, “Think you can fuck me and lick it off me at the same time? Or is that too complicated for a brute like you?”

Damen growled and pressed forward, licking messily at Laurent’s face and then kissing Auguste’s come into his mouth. Laurent gasped against his lips as the new position drove Damen’s cock into him at a new angle.

Stretching with a sigh, Auguste curled beside his younger brother, reaching between them to stroke his cock, knuckles moving against Damen’s firm stomach. Laurent moaned into Damen’s mouth and bucked up into his thrusts. Sweat rolled down Damen’s back, and Auguste pressed a kiss to his flexing shoulders. “Just like that,” he murmured to Damen. “He loves it, look at him. He’s going to come again.” Laurent whimpered, his cock leaking in Auguste’s hand. “That’s right sweetheart. Come on Damen’s cock for me. My perfect little brother.”

Eyes squeezed shut, Laurent came almost silently, making a tiny, choked sound in his throat as Damen pressed kisses to his cheeks, his forehead, his eyelids. His cock twitched and spilled between their chests, over his brother’s hand.

Groaning, Damen bent forward and pounded him in earnest for a few hard thrusts until he gasped and went still, buried deep inside Laurent.

Breathing hard, Damen pulled back slowly, collapsing on the bed. Laurent whined as his cock slipped out, warm liquid leaking out after it. Auguste stroked the damp gold hair off his brother’s forehead, and pressed a gentle kiss against his temple. Laurent’s chest was heaving. He was flushed all over, disheveled. “Look at how wrecked he is,” Auguste said fondly. “I think we should have made him wait longer to take your cock.”

Laurent made a disgruntled noise without opening his eyes and mumbled, “...hate you both.”

Grinning, Damen slung an arm over Laurent’s chest, his hand finding Auguste’s hip and pulling him close. “We love you too.”


	5. King's Crown (L/A underage, facesitting)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> inspired by a wonderful piece of art by [linecrosser](https://linecrosser.tumblr.com/)  
> enjoy everyone!

“What do you think?” Laurent turned from side to side, batting his eyes at himself in the mirror. His brother’s crown glinted on his head, darker gold than his curls. “Does it suit me?”

“Yes,” Auguste said honestly, looking up from his desk. Laurent ought to have looked silly wearing nothing but his nightshirt and the crown too big for him, slipping down over his forehead, but it was hard to laugh when his little brother made something intensely hot twist in his gut. That had been happening more and more recently.

He met Laurent’s gaze in the mirror and saw his brother’s pleased smile. The last six months, since Marlas and the loss of their father and uncle, had been hard. That bright, mischievous grin belonged to a younger Laurent and it made Auguste’s chest ache.

“I think I should be king tonight,” Laurent announced, turning with an imperious look on his face.

Giving up on getting any more of the papers signed, Auguste pushed back from his desk and slouched down a little in his chair. “Is that so?” His shirt was unlaced, and his feet bare on the marble floor. An evening breeze rustled the curtains, doing little to dispel the lingering heat of the summer day. “You think you’re ready to be king, little brother?”

Laurent tipped his nose up. “It can’t be so hard if _you_ can do it.”

“You think so?” Auguste jumped to his feet and lunged for his brother. Laurent yelped and dodged, tucking under his arm. He chased Laurent around the table, the candle flames guttering in the candelabra as they skidded past. Auguste could have caught him easily, but the sound of his laughter was so rare and sweet that he let Laurent slip past again until his little brother was panting, nightshirt slipping off his slender shoulders.

Finally Auguste tackled Laurent onto the bed. He fell beneath him with a squeak, startled into stillness for a moment before he began to squirm. Auguste pinned him easily, ignoring how tight his own trousers felt at his brother’s warm, lean body wriggling against his.

“Still think you ought to be king?”

“Winning fights by brute strength is hardly a measure of kingliness.” Laurent’s voice was high and taut with adolescence, cracking a little in the middle.

“Maybe so,” Auguste agreed, distracted. His little brother’s body was pressed against his, hip to shoulder, their legs tangled. Laurent squirmed again, and then bit his lip and rocked his hips up against Auguste’s thigh. It was a small enough motion that at first Auguste thought it had been involuntary, but then Laurent did it again, cock hardening between them. All the breath left Auguste’s lungs in a rush.

He shifted his grip a little, keeping Laurent pinned with both hands but lifting his chest off Laurent’s body, looking down at his brother. Laurent looked up at him, cheeks flushed, crown askew, wearing a shy, teasing smile. His lips were pink and wet where he’d licked them. He looked sweet and filthy. Wanting, and too young to know what he wanted.

Auguste cleared his throat. “You should go to bed Laurent. It’s getting late.”

His little brother’s face twisted into a predictable pout. “You can’t send your king to bed!”

“Watch me.” Sitting back, Auguste lifted his hands off his brother’s narrow wrists, turning away so he wouldn’t have to look at him splayed out on the blue bedspread.

That had been a tactical error. Laurent tackled him from behind, wrapping his skinny arms around Auguste’s neck, knees gripping his waist. “I’ve got you,” Laurent crowed. “You can’t get rid of me. If you want me to go to bed, you have to take me to bed with you.”

Auguste swallowed hard. Laurent was plenty old enough to know what he’d just said, for all that he’d been shy around pet performances most of his life. He could feel his brother’s chest against his back, ribcage rising and falling with his inhalations. He could easily have broken Laurent’s hold, but instead he just tucked his hand between Laurent’s forearms and his throat, to keep the boy from strangling him. “Kings should be careful what they wish for,” he said softly. “Because usually they get it.”

He felt Laurent still. “I know that,” he said, in his ear, and Auguste shivered. This was a dangerous line they were walking – had been for some time now. Sometimes Laurent would crawl into his bed at night; Auguste thought of whispered conversations in the dark, too-innocent questions, the smell of his brother on the pillows when he touched himself in the morning.

They hadn’t done it since Auguste was crowned. Somehow, since Marlas, everything had seemed more real – Laurent wasn’t a child anymore, indulging in harmless play. He was the crown prince, and Auguste was his king.

“Still want me to take you to bed?” Auguste asked.

“I’m not a child,” Laurent said, and his voice cracked on the word, making Auguste snort. Laurent kneed him in the ribs, and Auguste twisted out of his hold, rolling them over until Laurent was pinned beneath him. This time, Auguste was leaning on his chest from one side, their hips not touching.

“What does the king command?” he asked softly, and watched Laurent’s eyes darken and his cheeks go pink.

“Kiss me,” Laurent said, and then blushed furiously.

Smiling indulgently, Auguste leaned down and pressed their lips together. They had done this before, in the dark, and in the soft light of dawn – quick brotherly kisses melting into something longer. Waking together, Laurent tucked against his chest and old enough to get hard, the two of them rubbing themselves off wordlessly in silk sheets with morning light creeping across the floor.

Auguste had missed this, since Marlas. Laurent’s lips parted beneath his, and his mouth was warm and soft, familiar tasting. He sighed into the kiss, the kind of soft noise he used to make in his sleep. Auguste’s cock was achingly hard, straining against the laces of his trousers. Laurent’s own erection tented the fabric of his nightshirt, the thin cotton beginning to become wet and translucent where it was pressed against the leaking tip of his cock, showing the pink head clearly through the cloth.

When they broke apart, Laurent was breathing hard, hips making small circles against nothing, heels braced on the bed. His eyes fluttered open, dark with pupil. “Touch me,” he breathed.

Auguste hesitated, one hand on Laurent’s chest. “Are you sure?”

“I’m your king,” Laurent said, with remarkable dignity for a boy lying on his back with his hard cock exposed and an ill-fitting crown askew on messy curls. “You do as I say.”

Auguste’s lips curled up in sudden amusement. “Do you know the joke about being king?” It was a crude soldier’s saying, that Laurent would likely not have ever heard. Laurent shook his head. “That any man is a king if he sits on the right throne?”

From the small furrow on Laurent’s brow it was clear that he didn’t understand it, and was unhappy with his own incomprehension. Auguste licked his lips, trying to decide if he was ready to throw caution to the wind and stop halting his little brother’s advances. Laurent was so sweet beneath him, and he was so tired of saying no.

Leaning down, he spoke softly in Laurent’s ear. “They mean, that anyone feels like a king when he has someone’s tongue up his ass.” He felt Laurent jolt in shock, heard the softly indrawn breath. Pulling back, amused, he watched the expressions flit across his brother’s face, wondering if he was too young after all, to be compelled by such things.

“Show me,” Laurent said finally, voice firm, and Auguste felt something hot squirm in his stomach. “If I’m the king tonight.”

They stared at one another for a long moment, Laurent’s chin set stubbornly, Auguste’s heart pounding under his breastbone. They were on the cusp of something that couldn’t be taken back.

Then Laurent fisted his hands in his night shirt and yanked it over his head. Auguste leaned back to give him room and looked down at his brother’s naked body, pink nipples standing up, a glistening smear of liquid on his downy belly where the tip of his cock rubbed.

“Up on your knees,” Auguste said, letting on hand rest on Laurent’s hip. Laurent rolled up onto his knees, adjusting the crown on his tousled hair. The gesture was the self-conscious gesture of a child playing dress up in too-big clothes, and it sent a pang through Auguste’s heart. If Marlas had gone just a little differently, Laurent would be king himself now, wearing the oversized crown every day. As it was, his brother had grown up too quickly in the last few months.

To distract himself, Auguste pressed a kissed to Laurent’s shoulder, and lay back on the bed himself. He patted a hand against his sternum, gesturing his brother toward him.

Laurent looked uncertain. “You really want...”

“Only if you want. You’re the king.” Auguste rubbed his thumb in the tender hollow inside Laurent’s hipbone. “I think you’ll like it.”

Swinging a leg over Auguste’s head, Laurent knelt over him, cock bobbing in the air between them. Craning his head up, Auguste licked up the underside, making Laurent shudder. He tasted the bitter slick at the tip, curling his fingers over Laurent’s thighs and tugging him down further. Laurent whined, hips jerking. This was new, between them, and Auguste considered finishing Laurent like this – it wouldn’t take long, judging from the sounds Laurent was making. But he wanted... he let his hands cup the smooth curves of Laurent’s ass, fingers digging into his flesh. Laurent squeaked, cock twitching on Auguste’s tongue.

Letting his cock slide out of his mouth, Auguste scooted himself down the bed a little, feeling the sheets bunch under his back, pressing kisses against Laurent’s silky scrotum. Laurent was still growing, just a few sparse curls of pale hair curling at the base of his pink, slender cock.

Spreading Laurent’s cheeks with his palms, Auguste tilted his chin up and licked lightly over Laurent’s hole. Laurent gasped and shivered, thighs trembling. Pulling Laurent down against his face, Auguste teased him with his tongue until Laurent was shaking and making broken whimpering sounds.

He had one small hand tangled in Auguste’s hair, and his hole was loosening for his tongue, clenching and fluttering as Auguste worked the tip inside. Laurent was rocking his hips a little, fucking himself back against Auguste’s face. It was delicious making Laurent squirm and moan on his tongue. Auguste was ignoring his own aching cock making a wet spot on the inside of his trousers.

He knew from the sounds Laurent was making, from mornings when they had gotten off together, that Laurent was close. Laurent’s cock was bouncing against Auguste’s cheek, leaking copiously. He slid a hand down to touch himself before Auguste batted his hands away. Laurent whined, and swore, yanking a little with the hand in his hair, and Auguste growled a warning. Laurent was wearing the crown but Auguste was still his big brother.

He teased his fingers down Laurent’s crack getting them slick with his own spit. Laurent’s whole body jolted when he pressed one inside. He was hot and gripping around Auguste’s finger, almost pulling him in once he’d pressed past the initial resistance. Licking around where his knuckle was buried in Laurent’s ass, Auguste savored the feeling of his brother bucking back into his touch, rutting for more like a needy pet.

He wanted to watch him come apart completely. Wanted to stretch Laurent open until he could take his cock, teach him everything there was to know about their bodies together.

Auguste crooked his finger and Laurent shouted aloud, clenching down. Pressing on that place again, Auguste began to fuck him in earnest with just one digit, letting his tongue slick the way on each thrust. Laurent’s fists were painful in his hair, a counterpoint to the aching of his cock. Gasping and swearing unintelligibly, Laurent’s whole body tensed above him, and then convulsed. His back arched, thighs shaking, as his cock twitched and spat long strands of come across Auguste’s cheekbones and into his hair.

Laurent was moaning and shaking above him, fucking himself back against Auguste’s finger inside him, working himself through it like he was born for it. In a moment of shocking clarity, as Auguste’s own cock throbbed in sympathy in his trousers, he heard in the back of his mind another joking phrase that soldiers used – _crown of pearls_. Two crowns for two kings, like they were lovers rather than brothers. 

Epilogue: 

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are love!   
> <3


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